


Reconnecting

by depthsofmysol



Series: The Journal of Arthur and Eames [6]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-job Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 11:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/621843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/depthsofmysol/pseuds/depthsofmysol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time immediately after a job was usually spent in one of a number of ways – getting drunk together, or flying off to opposite ends of the earth. This time it involved stumbling into a hotel room, and reminding themselves that they were whole, and very much alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reconnecting

The time immediately after a job was usually spent in one of a number of ways – getting drunk together, flying off to opposite ends of the earth, stumbling into hotels rooms high on adrenaline. This time was no different. The details of the job were nothing more than a faded memory, the money having been deposited into their accounts already. Their team had all decided to go their separate ways, deciding it was better not to hang around and ask for the trouble that was inevitable, the kind that came with being criminals.

Technically they should have too, knowing that being together would only attract attention. But the high from a job well done, from having survived another militarised subconscious clouded their judgement, allowed them to momentarily forget that they should have gone their separate ways for a spell before reconnecting. They both knew better, but when it came to the high from a job and just how they _wanted_ to spend their downtime, they forgot common sense and decided to tempt fate by locking themselves in a hotel room and not even bothering to come out until the next day.

"Fuck, Eames," Arthur muttered, "don't – need – to – baby – me." He punctuated every word, wishing Eames wouldn't take things so slow.

Neither of them had been injured outside of the dream, and while their dream injuries had never bothered them before, this time it seemed as if the other man was reminding himself that the blood, the open wounds, his insides spilling out, and the pain that had shown in his eyes weren't real. Arthur knew better than to make a big deal of it, but having Eames inside of him, to the hilt no less, made it difficult to ignore all of that.

"Just give me this, Arthur," Eames whispered against the other man's neck, "please."

Even bent over Arthur, Eames could still see the pain that had flashed across the other man's eyes, could still remember the blood that had pooled around him as Arthur tried to keep himself, and the dream together. When they both woke up from the dream, his eyes automatically searched out the point man. He _knew_ that there wasn't anything marring Arthur's body, knew that everything had been in the dream. But he couldn't help but feel the need to reassure himself, to touch and feel and _know_ that his body was whole, that he really was uninjured.

"Eames," Arthur growled, raking his nails up the forger's back, "I'm here, I'm alive and if you don't fuck me _now_ , I swear I will never work another job with you."

"Impatient twat," Eames muttered as he bit down at the juncture of Arthur's shoulder and neck. The sound that followed only served to encourage him, and hooking his arm underneath Arthur's leg proceeded to change the pace from the slow and loving one he'd been enjoying to something fast, rough, and out of desperation. As much as he enjoyed dragging out the mews, the moans, and any other sound he could from the point man, today wasn't that sort of day. Today was nothing more than a day for reconnecting and remembering.

As he changed positions, he found himself watching Arthur and his face and how much the man relaxed when he wasn't on the job. It was something he always committed to memory, and as he continued to thrust into the other man, knew he wasn't going to last long. The all too familiar stirrings in the pit of his stomach were quickly coming, and instead of keeping himself propped up, bent down and whispered, "come for me Arthur, come for me poppet," making certain with each word spoken he hit the bundle of nerves that would send the other man over the edge. Eames wanted them to fall over that edge together instead of one after the other.

It didn't long, only a few strokes before he heard Arthur cry out beneath him sending his own completion crashing through him. He knew this was what they both needed, something raw and painful as a reminder. Eames waited only long enough for his breathing to even out before he pulled out, tying up the condom before tossing it into the bedside bin. Any other time, and he would have made the effort to clean them both up. But today he just rolled off of Arthur and pulled the other man towards him, ignoring his weak attempts at arguing. They could take a shower later. At that moment he just wanted to feel the other man against him, feel the warmth that signalled he was very much alive against his own skin.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," he confessed as his fingers traced shapes along Arthur's side, "when the projections decided to attack."

"Hey, it's part of the job," Arthur told him in no uncertain terms, "it's not like it hasn't happened before, and we both know it'll happen again. So let's just forget about it and shower before all of this dries on my stomach, okay?"

The next day they would collect the clothes they'd casually left on the floor as they'd made their way from the door to the bed, they'd make separate travel plans, end up on opposite sides of the planet until the next job, or whenever they felt it was safe enough to reconnect. The next day they would do what they should have done that night. Until then they would enjoy what they had, enjoy reconnecting body, mind, and soul, coming together for one night that would end up lasting them until the next time they came together, until the next time they reconnected.


End file.
